


The Undertaker's Wind

by ATMachine (orphan_account)



Category: Monkey Island
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ATMachine
Summary: "And I will luve thee still, my dear, / Till a’ the seas gang dry."





	The Undertaker's Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one line of dialogue from The Secret of Monkey Island.

  _“The little traitor soul in us, in the dark, like the worm in the apple. He talks to all of us. But only some understand him. The wizards and the sorcerers. The singers; the makers. And the heroes, the ones who seek to be themselves.”_

    -- Ursula K. Le Guin, _The Farthest Shore_

 

Once, there was an island that was ruled by a powerful lord. He was not a king, but rather the vassal of a king beyond the Sea; but he was powerful enough, in his own way, and feared by many who themselves inspired dread.

In his youth, this lord had travelled widely, and learned much of the hidden things that live in the underbelly of the world far from mortal ken. Now, older and wiser, he sought to protect the people and places he loved from the dark things that inhabited the earth.

The person he wished to protect above all else was his granddaughter.

Her parents had been lost years ago to the vagaries of the deep; it had been his task to bring her up in this remote land, far from the more civilized realms of the King over the sea. And he had succeeded admirably in raising her to become a charming, genteel, and formidable lady, loved by those he governed, and possessing something of his own iron will.

But there was one thing, try how he might, he could not protect her from.

He could not stop her from falling in love.

The man she set her sights on was a brute, a brigand, a coarse and oafish fellow with no manners and little sense. He was entirely unsuitable as a husband for a sharp-witted and clever woman like his granddaughter. He knew, with the wisdom of old age, that in the long run this fellow would only make his granddaughter miserable.

But she was young, and headstrong, and she did not yet know that for herself.

So it was that he barred the brigand from his home, though he was much the foremost of the sea-raiders in taking prizes for the King; and he forbade all mention of the blackguard in his hearing.

Yet his granddaughter, stubborn with youth, refused to give up her infatuation.

The lord believed that, with time, her passions would cool, and her thoughts would turn to some nice young man, and she and he would be wedded in the island’s chapel with due ceremony.

How wrong he was.

The brigand went to a sorceress, an old wise-wife whom local legend said had lived on the isle before the King’s men came over the Sea; and he crossed her dark palm with silver, and asked her to raise a tempest, the next time his lady’s grandfather went sailing to another island on the King’s business.

So it was that the storm rose, and the ship sank, and the lord vanished from the knowledge of men for a time. (But the full tale of his deliverance comes later, and its details vary in the telling.)

The people of the island, bereft of their beloved lord, decided that, in the absence of direction from the King over sea, they would take his granddaughter for their governor, for she was wise and strong-willed; and she did not say them nay.

Already she guessed in her innermost heart what had befallen her grandfather, though she did not speak her thoughts openly, keeping her own counsel.

She married the black-bearded brigand with what some called undue haste; but her grandfather’s foresight was borne out, for not six weeks had passed since their wedding and they were already feuding with bitter words.

The lady told her husband that he was cowardly, and lily-livered, and that the tales of his bravery were greatly exaggerated. What was it to kill a man in battle? Any fool with a sharp cutlass could do that. But what of cunning, of intelligence, of resourcefulness in the face of enormous odds? Were those not far better indicators of courage than a blood-spattered blade?

Only tell me what I might do to prove my courage to you, he said, and I will do it.

She told him of a fabulous island, shrouded in sorcerous mists, reputed to hold a secret as terrifying and obscene as any concealed since the dawn of man. Bring me the truth of this secret, she said, and I will consider you truly brave.

It will be done, he said, for your husband is a brave man.

And thus the black-bearded, black-hearted pirate, LeChuck, set off to learn the Secret of Monkey Island.

But Elaine Marley went to the same Voodoo Priestess that her husband had once cozened, and had her weave again her spells of windworking, to send LeChuck and his ship to the bottom of the ocean.

She rejoiced that she had at last gotten rid of that pesky lumbering oaf.

For about a week.

 

\-- excerpted from _The Secret Journals of Catherine “Guybrush” Threepwood_


End file.
